Excellent Exercise
by ipodrocker16
Summary: As the two eldest Bennet daughters stay at Netherfield Park with the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy, Darcy discovers a new form of exercise...
1. Excellent Form of Exercise

It was a very uneventful day at Netherfield Park. In the parlor there were five people; Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Hurst. All of the residents of the room had their own private occupations. Miss Bingley was flipping through a book that she didn't want to read, and had only picked it up after Mr. Darcy started reading the prequel. She was thinking of ways to get him alone with her.

Mrs. Hurst was sitting on a chair absent-mindedly playing with her bracelets. She was wondering when Miss Bingley, her sister, would realize that Darcy wasn't ever going to propose to her, and if she kept waiting for him, that she would never marry and become an old spinster.

Mr. Hurst was fast asleep on the sofa, dreaming about food.

Mr. Bingley was nervously pacing in front of the fireplace, thinking of the beautiful lady upstairs. Jane meant everything to him, and her being sick made him mad with worry. He had scarcely spoken to anyone since she arrived, apart from her sister Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley had to almost physically restrain himself from rushing upstairs to make sure she was okay, as neither of the ladies had been seen today, and his avid imagination could only imagine that something was terribly wrong.

Mr. Darcy's thoughts were completely different from all four of his companions, but were rather similar to Mr. Bingley's. Mr. Darcy was thinking about how he had to get away from the place, and from _her,_ before he did something he would regret, like propose. He was under the pretense of reading a book, no matter how many times he re-read the same sentence. Mr. Darcy was very confused. He had no idea what was happening to him. How could one country miss accomplish what dignified women of the Ton had been trying to do ever since he inherited Pemberley? Take Miss Bingley for example. Ever since he befriended her brother Charles six years ago, she had been chasing after him. Even if he had never met Elizabeth, _Miss Bennet_, he reprimanded himself, Miss Bingley wouldn't of succeeded in her quest. Apart from what the lady thought, she was not above Eliz- _Miss Bennet_ in society. As wealthy as the Bingleys were, they were not landed gentry such as the Bennets. The thought comforted him but little. It didn't matter what Mr. Darcy wanted, he could not marry El- _Miss Bennet._ As much as he would like to sweep her off her feet and propose, he could not. Society had expectations from him. Being in love didn't change that.

He sighed, knowing that his attempt to read was failing miserably.

"Bingley, I think I'm going to rest now. I'm feeling rather tired."

Mr. Bingley laughed. "Darcy, it's only the tenth hour! Are you sure you are not ill?"

"Yes I am fine sir, just tired." Mr. Darcy said his goodnights to the party, and didn't notice Miss Bingley slip out behind him when he left the room. He was halfway down the hallway when he heard, "Mr. Darcy! Oh Mr. Darcy I need to speak to you."

Mr. Darcy groaned inwardly. Of course Miss Bingley had to chose now to stalk him, when all he wanted to do was think. He quickly scanned his mind for an escape plan, and saw the library doors at the end of the hallway. He heard the nasally voice coming around the corner, and ran to the door in a very ungentlemanly way. Darcy was too busy with his escape to notice, and also having a bit of fun. He hadn't actually ran anywhere since he was sixteen, and he felt completely free. Free from society, free from Miss Bingley, and free from Elizabeth and the spell she put over him.

Mr. Darcy yanked open the library doors, ran to the back, leaped over an ottoman, and ducked behind a large armchair just as Miss Bingley opened the doors. She looked around the room and frowned, and sneered at an unforeseen object, then left. Darcy let out a sigh of relief, and started laughing, leaning against the chair. He was so caught up in his amusement that he hadn't noticed a person sitting in the chair in the corner.

"Er... Mr. Darcy? Are you alright sir?" He froze and his heart started beating fast. Darcy would know that voice anywhere. He slowly turned around and saw what, or who to put it more properly, Miss Bingley had sneered at before she left. Elizabeth Bennet was sitting in a chair, legs tucked into her side, a book on her lap, and a very confused and amused expression on her face.

Darcy felt his face turn a very, very bright red as he realized that Elizabeth must of seen the whole episode of him sprinting through the library.

"Oh, um, hello Miss Bennet." He said uncomfortably. Elizabeth's expression now only held amusement and she arched her eyebrow as she said, "Pray tell me sir, why were you running through the library just now?"

Darcy wished he could sink into the floor. What would she think of his ungentlemanly display? He tried to think of a reasonable excuse but found none. He decided that the truth was the only way out, and he would have to deal with the consequences.

"Well Miss Bennet, you see, I was running." He began. After a pause Elizabeth laughed and said, "Really sir? I hadn't noticed. Pardon me, but why were you running?"

Darcy started sweating from the pressure from this beautiful woman. "Oh, right. Well we were talking, and wondering where you were, and, um..." He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Miss Bingley spoke." She waited for him to finish, and seeing that Darcy wasn't planning on speaking more, said with her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Excuse me Mr. Darcy, but I really don't understand why Miss Bingley opening her mouth would cause you to run away in terror."

Darcy had no idea what to say, so he decided to go with what had been happening before he began his book.

"Miss Bingley wasn't speaking kindly about you Miss Bennet." He said bluntly. Darcy immediately regretted it, as her expression changed from amusement to being cold and looked slightly hurt. Mr. Darcy honestly had no idea what to do, so he decided to flatter her. "I don't appreciate lies being spread about beautiful and charming young women."

She stared at him incredulously and blushed severely. Darcy felt a rush of pleasure and pride from making her happier. He then realized that he was still sitting on the floor. Darcy immediately stood up.

"Well I was just going to grab a book and leave Miss Bennet, goodnight madam."

"Goodnight Mr. Darcy." He felt Elizabeth's eyes on him as he selected his book, and was hoping that she admired him as much as he did her.

Sadly, she didn't say another word to him as he picked his book. Darcy started to leave the library but as he was going he heard a small voice behind him.

"Mr. Darcy?" His blood rushed to his head as he turned around and said eagerly, "Yes?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly but looked him in the eye as she said, "You are a very fast runner sir. Goodnight." She then stood up, walked past him, and was out the door before he could conduct a reply. So Elizabeth Bennet thought he was a good runner? Darcy looked both ways before running down the hallway and sprinting up the steps. He collapsed on his bed in his chambers and thought that running was certainly an excellent form of exercise.


	2. Unexpected Meeting

Mr. Darcy woke up in the morning with a smile plastered on his face from memory of the previous day. He had been escaping Caroline Bingley, and started to run to the library. Who would happen to be there, but Elizabe-_Miss Bennet_? Darcy knew that if he had to keep calling her that he would go insane. Eliz-_Miss Bennet_ had actually complimented him on his running, and had blushed! He, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had made Elizabeth Bennet blush! Darcy felt an unreasonable sense of accomplishment at this, because young ladies blushed all the time. _But not Elizabeth,_ a part of his brain said. He was forced to concur.

Darcy went downstairs to breakfast in good sprits, which faded when he saw that Caroline Bingley was at the breakfast table, and Elizabeth Bennet was not. He sighed, and told his friend Bingley he was going for a walk.

"Darcy, are you well?" Bingley asked.

"No Bingley, I'm perfectly well, thank you for asking. I just don't feel very hungry at the present moment, and am in the mood for some exercise."

Laughter threatened to release itself at the memory of when Darcy had last thought of exercise, but he forced control over himself as he left Netherfield Park to go for a walk.

About half an hour later Darcy was, shamefully, bored. Gentlemen were not supposed to admit to being bored! He told himself. Darcy was suddenly struck with a wi cked idea. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had complimented him on his running. Perhaps if he were to run more? A grin lit his face at the idea of impressing Eliz- oh for heavens sake it was only his mind. He could think of her as Elizabeth and society would be none the wiser. The idea of impressing Elizabeth was so appealing to his mind, that Darcy didn't think of how ridiculous it was. Chances were that Darcy would never get the chance to show off his running skills, and even if he did, it would be most improper. But our favorite hero didn't think of these complications, only of how to win his lady.

Darcy got into a good running position and took off. He felt the same kind of freedom that he had the previous day! At the moment he didn't feel like Mr. Darcy, Master of Pemberley, but the Fitzwilliam of his youth, the one who got in trouble with Mrs. Reynolds for sliding down the banister, who jumped out of a tree onto the roof of his father's carriage, who locked his cousin Richard Fitzwilliam in an abandoned shed for two days supplied only with a jug of water and sardine crackers. Darcy felt ALIVE. Until he ran into something and fell to the ground.

Darcy's face crashed into the mud, evidently between someone's head and shoulder. "OW!" He heard the person he had fallen on top of yell. Mr. Darcy was slightly humiliated. Someone had just caught him in the most ungentlemanly habit of running! He almost was afraid to lift his head and see who it was, but when he heard the soft, "Mr. Darcy, please remove yourself from my person," Darcy looked up immediately. Who else could possibly catch him in a second embarrassing scenario than Elizabeth Bennet?

For a moment he couldn't move, because of the close proximity to the woman he loved. Their faces were less than two inches apart, and Darcy was in a trance. He saw the chocolaty swirls of her eyes and at that moment, knew he was lost. He was lost in love. Darcy almost chuckled, it felt so strange. After years of ladies following him, hoping that he would make them the Mistress of Pemberley, he had found her at last. Elizabeth Darcy. How well that sounded! Darcy was removed from his reverie by Elizabeth saying, "Mr. Darcy? Will you please get up? I'm afraid I'm rather squished, sir."

Recovering from his fantasy, Darcy realized that his body was pinning her to the ground in a most compromising position. He jumped up immediately and held out a hand to help her up, which she gratefully took.

"I'm terribly sorry madam, I was in slight shock for a moment, or I would of let you up at your first request." He immediately regretted saying that, as his little knowledge of the lady led him to believe that she would take advantage of mocking other's follies. Not that he minded. No, that was precisely what endeared her to him. Lucky for Darcy, Elizabeth was in a slight haze, as is known to happen when one has the wind knocked out of them, or she certainly would of taken the opportunity to make the man uncomfortable.

"It is quite alright sir," she replied. "I know that having the wind knocked out of ones self can slightly delay rational thought." Darcy didn't attempt to point out that this was hardly the case for him, as frankly he didn't _want_ to get off of her. "Certainly," he said.

"Sir, if you don't find my question too impertinent, what exactly were you doing that caused you to run into myself?" And the awkward questioning began, as can only be expected when Elizabeth Bennet catches Fitzwilliam Darcy doing something rather embarrassing.

Darcy wished he could sink into the ground. What would she think of his ungentlemanly display? He tried to think of a reasonable excuse but found none. He decided that the truth was the only way out, and he would have to deal with the consequences. Darcy couldn't help but have a sense of déjà vu, recalling an instance that was similar to the present situation...

"Well Miss Bennet, you see, I was running." He began. After a pause Elizabeth laughed and said, "Really sir? I hadn't noticed. Pardon me, but why were you running?"

Darcy started sweating from the pressure from this beautiful woman. "Oh, right." He paused for a moment, and changed his mind. The truth was NOT the best way out in this circumstance, so he invested in the even more ungentlemanly habit of stalling. "Pray tell me Miss Bennet, am I the only one having a sense of déjà vu?"

Elizabeth laughed and said, "Mr. Darcy, you spoke my thoughts exactly. And you also avoided my question. How clever!" Darcy felt his face going hot. So he had been discovered.

"Madam, that was certainly not my intent. Of course I will answer your question of why I was running." In the quick pause he tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but again, found none. Darcy sighed as he really didn't have an explanation, so he prepared himself to tell her the wretched truth. Unfortunately he had taken slightly too long, and Elizabeth was certain he was stalling. "Come Mr. Darcy, you weren't running from Miss Bingley again? She is not oh so terrifying sir. Certainly nothing you can't handle."

Did she really think that? Did she mean that he could handle anything? Darcy's hopes were smashed at the smug expression on her face. Oh. She had only been making a joke. It was now or never.

"No Miss Bennet, Miss Bingley is being perfectly civil today. I found myself not very hungry, so I decided to go for a walk. I admit I was rather bored, so I thought back to our conversation about running the other day, and took up the activity. It really is quite refreshing," he admitted.

Elizabeth looked surprised, but he couldn't blame her, as he was surprised himself, if for different reasons. She was slightly impressed that Mr. Darcy had undertaken such a carefree and human experience for pure enjoyment, and he was impressed with himself for not saying something ridiculous and without class, and for not stammering.

Perhaps he was recovering from the charms of Elizabeth!

Just then a ray of sunlight came through the clouds and lit her face, so that she looked like a goddess. Darcy felt like he could die right there a happy man, and his chest ached from concealing his feelings for her. So perhaps not.

The lovely goddess turned back to the disheveled man with his jaw open. "Well Mr. Darcy, we had best be going." And she took off towards the house. Darcy followed behind like a lost puppy, staring at her with his mouth agape all the way. When they were announced into the Netherfield breakfast room, he straightened his cravat and regained his posture.

"Mr. Darcy! Miss Bennet! We were wondering where the pair of you took off too," their gracious hostess sneered.

"Miss Bingley, I believe I informed the entire party that I would be going for a walk, and I met Miss Bennet along the way." Darcy explained.

Miss Bingley smiled thinly. "Oh yes. Please sit, both of you."

After everyone was settled and putting food on their plates, Mr. Bingley turned to Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, I hope your sister is well?"

Remarks on her sister's rapidly improving health ensued from Elizabeth, and Darcy found the curious eyes and whispers of Miss Bingley and the Hursts directed towards him. Eventually Bingley seemed to take notice and Darcy grew irritated.

"Bingley, will you please tell me what seems to amuse you all so much?" he demanded. Bingley and Elizabeth laughed, and he realized that she had been examining him too. The news that he was under HER scrutiny only brought pleasure.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth began, evidently trying to hold in laughter. "It appears that you have mud on your face sir."

Darcy felt his face going extremely hot, and got up and looked in the mirror near the door. He had brown mud and dirt all over the right side of his face, and to top off the humiliation, a leaf was sticking out of his hair. Darcy groaned, realizing that during his whole flirtation with Elizabeth, that was what she had been looking at. Bingley and Elizabeth laughed again at his distress as he attempted to wipe off the mud.

"Darcy, what on Earth happened to you?" Bingley asked. Darcy involuntarily glanced at Elizabeth who had turned a pretty shade of pink. He understood how compromising the situation would seem, so he said simply, "I was running and I fell."

Darcy sat down and began to eat with the others, though nobody else appeared to notice Bingley's thoughtfulness, as they were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Mr. Hurst thinking of food, Mrs. Hurst of fashion, Miss Bingley on how to be rid of the meddlesome Bennets for good, and Elizabeth on which Mr. Darcy was real; the cold proud one, or the playful one who enjoyed running and simple flirtation? She settled on the less appealing former.

As usual, Darcy's thoughts were completely different than that of his dinner mates. In fact, his state of mind was similar as how it had been the day previously, about what excellent exercise running was.


	3. The Epic Race

The entire Netherfield party was in the drawing room that night, including the previously ill Jane Bennet. Miss Bennet had finally recovered from the illness that had made her stay at Netherfield, and her sister was anxious to go home and escape the strange behavior of Mr. Darcy, so the ladies were to leave the next day. Mr. Bingley had been overjoyed at her recovery, but quickly drifted into the thoughtful trance that had been his attitude since Elizabeth and Darcy returned from their walk at breakfast. Everyone was extremely perplexed and bothered by it. Their usually talkative and cheery host seemed silent and deeply contemplating something. Eventually Mr. Darcy could stand it no longer, and voiced the question everyone had been wondering; "Bingley, is something the matter?"

His friend looked up and said, "No Darcy, I'm fine." Darcy's expression made it obvious that he didn't believe it to be the case, but let it pass. About five minutes later Darcy was still troubled by it, and almost jumped when Bingley said suddenly, "I want to have a race."

Everyone stared incredulously at their host, and Darcy said, "Excuse me?"

Mr. Bingley flushed but repeated himself more slowly, "I want to have a race. A running race. This morning when you and Miss Elizabeth mentioned that you had been running, it put me in mind. We are all perfectly fit here, and Miss Bennet has recovered from her illness," he glanced at Jane fondly, "So we can all race each other!"

The whole room stared at him. He stared back. "What? It's not improper, and I will even make a reward for the winner so it's more fun. How about whoever wins our little race, gets to select the music and dining options for the ball I promised Miss Lydia and Mrs. Bennet."

His sisters shared a look that clearly said, "Charles has gone mental."

Mr. Hurst looked eager at the mention of whatever food he desired.

Jane stared at Mr. Bingley like his idea was sent from Heaven above.

Elizabeth appeared as though she was considering whether or not she wanted to participate.

Darcy was watching Elizabeth and wondering whether she would race. He certainly wasn't going to participate unless she did, and even then reluctantly. He may have recently re-discovered the joys of running, but wasn't sure if he wanted to be as ungentlemanly as to run in front of the ladies. Darcy was about to open his mouth to question Bingley's sanity when his angel said, "I think that is a marvelous idea Mr. Bingley."

It was now the rooms turn to stare at Elizabeth. Darcy immediately decided that he wanted to see this beautiful vision run, so he cleared his throat and said, "I must concur with Miss Elizabeth. Bingley, your idea of a race sounds delightful." Elizabeth looked at him and confusion, evidently not expecting him to agree.

Miss Bingley certainly had to participate in order to seem as attractive as Elizabeth Bennet evidently was to Darcy, and the Hursts agreed to participate, Mr. Hurst because of food, and Mrs. Hurst so she wouldn't be the odd one out. Jane agreed almost immediately at Elizabeth and Bingley's persuasion.

"Excellent!" Bingley cried. "We will all meet on the lawn in half an hour." With that he left the room, followed by the entire party, who for once had the exact same thoughts as all the others; What had they gotten themselves into?

Darcy rummaged through his dresser. What on Earth was he THINKING, accepting this ridiculous challenge? As soon as he asked himself the question he knew the answer. Elizabeth. He knew his running had impressed her, and couldn't wait to have her admire him as he supposed she did again. Darcy finally found a riding outfit and changed accordingly. He went outside to find Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Miss Jane all ready to race. Elizabeth followed Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who were chatting uncontrollably, out of the house. Darcy was astonished to see her looking so lovely, but he had absolutely no idea what amazed him so much. Perhaps it was how she was rolling her eyes every time Miss Bingley said, "Darcy", which was very often.

"Capital everyone, capital!" A jolly Mr. Bingley exclaimed. "Now let me explain the rules. We will be running from this line here," Bingley pointed to a white line drawn in the grass. "To the line over there by that flag, eight hundred yards away." **(A/N: I understand that they would of used the metric system, but I'm American so I can't really picture what eight hundred yards would be in meters. I'm also too lazy to figure it out. :) On with the story!)** He gestured to an area a long ways away from the line, where Darcy could faintly see England's flag waving in the distance on top of a hill. The Bingley sisters looked horrified at the idea of running so far, as they were both dressed so exquisitely that they could of gone to St. James' Court, and appeared overdressed. They also were both wearing heels. Darcy observed that Elizabeth, as he now permitted his mind to think of her as, was wearing boots and a light sundress, more suitable for running. Miss Jane was dressed likewise.

"Any questions?" Bingley called. The all shook their heads no, and took their places on the line. From left to right, the order went Miss Jane, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, Darcy, and to the formerly mentioned gentleman's satisfaction, Elizabeth.

"On the count of three!" Bingley yelled.

"Are you prepared to lose, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said playfully. He felt a warmth in his chest at her addressing him, and he replied, "Certainly. One could never expect to beat Miss Bingley." A rush of pleasure overcame Darcy as he heard her giggle slightly, and almost missed Bingley yell, "THREE!"

The sophisticated ladies and gentlemen of English society took off running though the mud.

Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth, and surprisingly, Mr. Hurst, were in the lead. Darcy and Elizabeth were both good runners, determined to beat each other, and Hurst was determined to select all the food he could imagine for the Netherfield Ball. Miss Bingley and Jane were right behind the trio, and Mr. Bingley and his married sister were lagging behind the rest of them.

"You shall never catch me, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth called, as she was quickly surpassing him and Mr. Hurst. Darcy was determined to impress her, and that included winning. He added more effort into his sprint as he caught up with the lady and joyfully said, "Well then I suppose the end of the world has come Miss Bennet, as I seem to have caught you!"

The couple in front didn't notice what was occurring behind them, as Mr. Darcy was too busy admiring Elizabeth's figure, and Elizabeth was too busy being furious at Mr. Darcy's impertinence.

Mr. Hurst had been in the lead with Elizabeth and Darcy, until the two of them ran faster, each in an attempt to beat the other. Unfortunately, he had seen a strawberry bush. Reader, I must establish something. Mr. Hurst was a very large man. His hobbies included eating, drinking, sleeping, playing cards, and hunting. Food was his main priority. So when Hurst saw the delicious strawberries just waiting to be eaten, he couldn't resist. He stopped running, letting his annoying sister-in-law and new neighbor pass him, and walked over to the bush. His brother-in-law and wife came running, and Bingley continued on the race as Louisa stopped in disbelief.

"HUMPHREY HURST!" She bellowed. He stopped shoving food in his mouth and looked at his angry wife. "NOW WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CHANCE OF WINNING!" Mrs. Hurst sighed and sat down on a log next to her husband. He shrugged, and as he continued to eat the strawberries, she joined him saying, "Give me some of those."

Up ahead, Jane, Bingley, and Caroline Bingley were all tied.

"Leave me to win, brother!" Caroline snarled. She discreetly stuck out her large foot, and tripped a determined Jane. With a cry of, "Oh!" She fell to the ground. Bingley immediately stopped in his tracks and ran back to her, a laughing Caroline slowly catching up to our favorite hero and heroine.

"Miss Bennet!" He cried out, rushing to her side. "Are you alright?"

Jane sat up, a daze still on her face. "I'm fine sir, I just..." She couldn't believe that Caroline would intentionally trip her, as that was too unkind of a thing to do to somebody. "I fell," she lied. Jane assumed it had been an accidental mistake, and that Miss Bingley meant no harm.

The couple made their way back to Netherfield, the race already forgotten.

"I'm afraid Miss Bennet, that I will most certainly win," Mr. Darcy called in what he imagined as a flirtatious tone. Elizabeth however, interpreted it much differently. The gall of the man! To say such a childish thing, and to a lady! Though, she mused, the whole idea of a race was rather childish. But at this point, Elizabeth didn't care. Her only goal was to BEAT DARCY.

The gentleman in question, however, was having the time of his life. He knew the last day and a half had left him acting scandalously improper, running about the place like a child of eight. An astounding revelation revealed to Darcy, however, that he didn't really care. Here he was, running with Elizabeth Bennet. Nothing could ruin his freedom now. Nothing except...

"Oh Mr. Darcy!" A nasally voice behind the two of them called. They both winced. Trust Caroline Bingley to ruin his fun.

The pair of them ignored Miss Bingley, who was now tied to them both, on the other side of Darcy. He groaned inwardly. Caroline Bingley was sure to ruin any chances he had with Elizabeth! Suddenly, Darcy was mad. He was going to win Miss Bennet's heart if it was the last thing he would ever do! In one swift and ungentlemanly motion, he stuck out his foot. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Caroline Bingley lurched forward, screaming at a freakishly high pitch. She tried to grab Darcy's arm but he had moved back towards Elizabeth. Miss Bingley flew face first into the pile of manure left from one of the gentleman's horses. Her burnt orange dress now had brown stains of... mud, on it. The feathers of her hat were all over the ground, and she was shrieking like a banshee. Darcy heard Elizabeth gasp, but she didn't seem to realize that it was indeed him who tripped the lady. He felt a pang of regret, but it faded as he realized that he was indeed alone with Elizabeth, and would soon win, and impress her with his speed.

They kept running, silently, Elizabeth determined to beat him to deflate his pride, and Darcy determined to beat her to show her how impressive he was. The finish line was now in sight, and they both sprinted towards it. They were panting as they began to run up the ginormous hill, and Elizabeth said, "Are you ready to prepare for defeat, sir?" He smirked and said, "Defeat? No indeed, madam. I have no intention of losing." Elizabeth was getting madder by the second. Who did he think he was, to imply that she was no good at running? And he called himself a gentleman. Well Elizabeth would show him.

"Mr. Darcy, it is me who intends not to lose." Darcy grinned at the easy conversation they were participating in. So he was impressing Elizabeth and partaking in delightful conversation with her all in one day? He would be the owner of her heart in no time. They were almost to the top of the hill, and the finish line, and they both were running their hardest. It was impossible to see who was in the lead, as their running appeared to an astute observer to be synchronized. Darcy thought he could win, as did Elizabeth.

Finally they were steps away from the finish. They were both straining all their energy. They saw the line in front of them, took the final step, and Elizabeth fell. She couldn't help it. There was a tree root sticking out of the groud, and she tripped over it and fell onto Darcy, pushing him down. As they were on the top of the hill, Elizabeth fell forward, and down the other side of the hill her and Mr. Darcy fell. It was painful for both of them, as there were itchy and rough parts of the ground they were rolling down. Darcy barely realized what was going on, as it took him by surprise when Elizabeth suddenly fell on him, taking him down with her. They both landed at the bottom of the hill with a thud, and ironically, Elizabeth was on top of Darcy this time.

The both blushed beet red at yet a third awkward situation between them, and Elizabeth said, "Mr. Darcy I insist that we must stop meeting like this. We always seem to end up on the ground." Darcy himself had no problem with that, but didn't say anything as he was afraid to say something ungentlemanly, relating to how he preferred the contact as opposed to society's standard space between a gentleman and lady. Elizabeth got off of him, and sat on the grass, looking like she belonged there, Darcy thought. He too sat up, and just looked at her for a moment.

"So Mr. Darcy, who do you suppose won?" He was startled at the sudden question, as his thoughts had been far from the official outcome of the race. Darcy considered the question for a moment, then said, "I suppose Mr. Bingley will be the judge of that, Miss Bennet." She nodded and the pair walked back to the house in silence.

When they arrived in the Netherfield drawing room, everyone appeared startled at their disheveled appearances. Miss Bingley was the only member of the party absent, and Bingley immediately asked, "What happened to the two of you?" Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other, and him seeing that her hair had fallen out of its twist, and her seeing how his cravat was dangling off his neck, they both realized how strange it must look.

"I'm afraid that is my fault Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth began. "I tripped and fell down the hill, and Mr. Darcy was unfortunate enough to have me unintentionally pull him down the hill with me."

Jane and Bingley chuckled, and Mrs. Hurst eyed Elizabeth warily, taking over her sister's protectiveness of Darcy in her absence.

"Bingley, in our little mishap I'm afraid we lost track of who won the race," Darcy stated. He secretly hoped he would be able to plan the ball with Elizabeth, as that would give her a reason to stay at Netherfield.

Bingley blinked for a moment and said, "Certainly! Miss Elizabeth, if you don't mind planning the ball with Darcy, I'm sure that will work out accordingly, as the two of you appear to have tied."

Darcy felt his pulse quicken. So he would get more time with the lovely lady after all! Elizabeth, however, had a different idea.

"Oh no Mr. Bingley," she said mysteriously, a mischievous glint in her eye that Darcy found adorable. "I'm afraid that Jane and I will need to return home tomorrow, so I will leave the reward of planning the dance to Mr. Darcy." She almost laughed at Mr. Darcy's dismayed expression. It was fitting that a man who despised dancing was in charge of planning a ball. Elizabeth and Jane then excused themselves to go to bed. They bid goodnight to the gentlemen and Mrs. Hurst, and left the room. Darcy found no point in staying without Elizabeth, so he too left for the night.

As Darcy laid in bed thinking, he decided that planning a ball was cruel punishment for a solitary person as himself. The whole dilema was consequence of him running away (literally) from Caroline Bingley. Darcy fell asleep with only one thought other than Elizabeth Bennet; perhaps running wasn't such an excellent form of exercise after all.

THE END

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><p><strong>AN: Wow. I am amazed at the amount of attention this story recieved! I've had over 3,500 hits from this story alone. To everybody who read this, THANK YOU! To everyone who reviewed, YOU GET A PERSONAL DARCY CLONE! You guys are amazing. I would like to give credits for this chapter to Th3 R3aD3r and YepItsMe, who gave me an idea for the race, and of course iPinkNinja, who gave me ideas for Caroline Bingley and Mr. Hurst's demise. Be sure to check out her stories! I know that this whole thing is EXTREMELY unlikely to happen, but I had too many requests to continue! By the way, I have a poll going on my profile about which Pride and Prejudice character you find the most irritating. I want EVERYBODY who has read this to give their input! Thanks again! PLEASE REVIEW!**


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